


Memory

by Aifrit



Series: 31 Days of Apex, 2020 - Voidstrike [1]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: 31 Days of Apex (Apex Legends), Dark, Disturbing Themes, Dreams and Nightmares, Established Relationship, F/F, Human Experimentation, Memories, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship(s), Repressed Memories, Science Experiments, Violation, Voidstrike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aifrit/pseuds/Aifrit
Summary: The tears in her eyes cloud her vision as the stench of ozone surrounds her. She feels her body giving in, releasing some type of burning energy that she can't contain. The crackle of thunder reverberates through the room as a rip in space and time tears open slowly in front of her. - Day 1, Memory
Relationships: Bangalore | Anita Williams/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Series: 31 Days of Apex, 2020 - Voidstrike [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812301
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Memory  
> Pairing: Bangalore/Wraith (Voidstrike)  
> Rating: M for some potentially disturbing content  
> Words: 649  
> A/N: Going to see how many of these themes I can do for the month. Hope you enjoy!

When her eyes fly open, she realizes she can't move. Can barely breath. Can barely focus. 

White room. Machinery in her face. Dark glass to her left. Panic, panic, _panic_.

_Where am I? Where am I? Move. Fight. Move. Fight. Move. Move. MOVE. GET OUT._

Can't move. Strapped down in a chair. Smells like old leather and dust. Ozone. Copper. She struggles, _pulls_ her arms. She's strapped. Arms, legs, neck. Can't _move_.

It's hard to breathe. She takes in air, but it does nothing. _Nothing_. Her lungs don't fill. There is no relief. Feels like she's choking.

She screams.

Struggles.

Screams. 

Her throat's raw, scratchy. It hurts.

She struggles more to no avail. Her eyes itch and burn with oncoming tears. 

A screech makes her flinch and grit her teeth and screw her eyes shut. There's a voice - male? - clearing over a microphone. 

"Begin test four."

The words elicit some form of unbridled and primal rage within her. She thrashes and writhes in the chair, the rattling of metal clamps and straps ringing in her ears. She screams again.

"Asset 61137," the voice begins, even-toned. "It would be so much easier… if you just… _let it happen_." There's a hint of malice there, condescension and teasing dripping from the words.

She feels sick and disgusting, violated and exposed. Vulnerable.

Weak.

Helpless… 

The tears in her eyes cloud her vision as the stench of ozone surrounds her. She feels her body giving in, releasing some type of burning energy that she can't contain. The crackle of thunder reverberates through the room as a rip in space and time tears open slowly in front of her. 

The pain is unimaginable, _unbearable_. With the last of her energy, she screams to the heavens at the top of her lungs.

When she awakens, she springs up and throws every blanket off her. She breathes too quickly, doesn't take in enough air, and feels like she's suffocating all over again. Her body burns from head to toe. Beads of sweat trickle down her forehead.

Trembles wrack her body and as she falls back onto the bed, she feels solid arms wrap around and constrict her. She pulls away with all her might, swiveling around and backing away, pulling the covers up to shield her face.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. It's okay." 

It's nearly pitch black, but the shirtless woman she sees in front of her is sitting up with a hand outstretched. 

"Wraith, it's me. Anita. It's okay. It's okay. It's me. It's just me." Her voice is even, calm, and Wraith feels embarrassed at her sudden reaction.

Anita nods slowly, coaxing her forward. Wraith stares at her hand for several seconds before reaching to grab it. She crawls forward, finding comfort resting her forehead on Anita's collar.

She feels Anita's arm wrapping around her, slowly this time, but leaving her room to move, to breathe. Wraith relaxes right in Anita's arms.

"It's okay, Wraith. It's okay. Just a bad dream. Just a bad dream, okay? I'm right here. I'm right here with you."

She tears up at Anita's words. Her chest constricts and before she knows it, she breaks out into full on sobs right in the woman's chest. 

She doubts she'll be sleeping anytime soon, and she hates herself for putting Anita through this _again_. But the pain and memories are too vivid, too much to deal with. Everything hurts and right now, nothing is okay. _Nothing_. 

But every night Anita has been right with her, comforting her until the sun peeks over the horizon, because she _knows_ this pain. There is no protest, no questions asked. She just sits with Wraith and holds her as she hums or sings her to sleep. It's the smallest and kindest gesture Wraith could ask for, and in those few hours of comfort and protection, she can, at least, pretend those memories don't exist.


End file.
